


Second Chances

by AnitheFangirl



Series: Jason/Skylar [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Major Character Injury, Protective Jason, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:10:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3334619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnitheFangirl/pseuds/AnitheFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skylar Harris finds a badly injured Red Hood, and saves his life. He soon finds that he can't stay away. Red Hood finds himself determined to protect her from his demons. She may be the best thing that has ever happened to him. Rated T for future violence, romance, moderate language, and Jason's issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Alley

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All I own is Skylar Harris. My OC. Not Jason, Not Bruce, Not the Joker, Only Sky. If I did, I would have a mansion and a dozen Egyptian Arabian Horses. And would never have killed Jason or Damian.

  **Images:**

Jason Todd:<https://www.pinterest.com/pin/378443174912658158/>  

Skylar Harris: <http://bag-of-brains.tumblr.com/post/39310936837>

For whatever strange reason, images don't show up, so here are the links to their pics.

 

**Skylar POV**

 

I rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling.  Turning my head to the side, I could read 3:13 on my little black alarm clock.  ‘Why can’t I sleep?  The small apartment was quiet: not even creaking floorboards.  My dad was still at Arkham, where he worked as a guard.  And here lies myself, Skylar Harris: short and athletic with light blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and tan skin.  My mom died.  My father is hardly ever around.  I spend all her time at school, the shooting range, and the gym.  Perfect life?  Ha ha.  Not even close to a smidge of perfection.

 

I shot up as a series of gunshots disrupted the early morning.  Rolling out of my bed and sliding under it, I covered my head with my arms.  I waited for several minutes, and didn’t hear any more shots, so I climbed out and walked to the window cautiously.  Scanning the length of the alley and finding nothing, I turned to go to bed.  But before I left, I noticed something moving at the entrance.  As I looked closer, I saw a tall figure  stumbling closer to her apartment.  I was about to shrug it off as some drunk or high idiot when I saw him collapse against a dumpster holding his midsection.  I can barely make out the sheen of blood in the moonlight.

 

I ran to grab the first aid kit and raced down the stairs.  I nearly tripped several times, but got to the door safely.  Shoving the door open, I saw the man and ran to him.  When I arrived, he looked up at me.  “Are you okay?”

 

All I got was a groan of pain.  He’s tall, muscular, and has black hair.  His eyes, well, I can’t see his eyes.  He looked like he’s wearing Nightwing or Robins mask, except it’s red, not green or blue.  I look down at his stomach, and realized that he’s holding two different wounds in the middle of his abdomen.  Gently, I pull his hands away from the wounds so I can look at them.  “Can you lift your shirt?”  He nodded, and pulled his shirt up to his chest, exposing a killer set of abs covered in blood.  I manage to maneuver him so he’s laying down on the ground.  “I’m gonna try to treat these, okay?”  He breathes deeply in an effort to control the pain, but still he visibly winced at the movement.

 

I really should’ve taken him to my apartment first, but this guy looks like he’d collapse before we could reach the elevator.  “Where are Batman and Nightwing?”

 

“Other side of the city.  My comm is down.  Couldn’t reach them.”

 

“Are you injured anywhere else?”  He shakes his head

 

I unlatched and opened the kit, pulling out the antiseptic.  I took an alcohol wipe, cleaning the blood away from the injuries, and sanitizing it.  He hissed in pain when the alcohol touched the wounds, but allowed me to continue.  I reached for that pair of hemostats I saw earlier, and tore open the plastic package.  

 

“Have you ever done this before?”  I nodded.

 

“Just keep breathing.”  I gently held the edges of the first hole apart with my index finger and thumb.  I looked up at the white lenses, and the man nodded.   I poked down into the wound, and found the bullet.  It wasn’t too deep, but he could still bleed out.  I gripped the sides of the bullet, and start to slowly pull it out.  His face contorts in pain, and bites down on his lower lip.  

 

“Ah!”  He gasped.  I counted to three, and pulled the bullet out of him quickly, but carefully.  He  clenches his fists, breathing quickly.  I reached for and opened the small bottle of antiseptic, and poured some onto a pad of surgical gauze, and pressed it against the wound.  He whined slightly at the sting, but didn’t try to move.  I taped the gauze to his skin, hoping it would stick.  The bullet went into the hemostat packaging.  The hemostats lay on top of the gauze, already wiped off with another alcohol wipe.

 

“Are you okay for the next one?”  I asked softly, wiping the blood off of the other small hole.  He nodded, and I picked up the hemostats again, and pulled the sides of the hole with my thumb and index finger.  I reached into the wound with my hemostats, and gripped the bullet.  I counted to three, and pulled it out.  

 

“Oww..”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“I’m fine, it just hurts a lot more once it’s gone.”

 

Repeating the routine of antiseptic, gauze, and surgical tape, I dressed the wound.  He lifted his hips and pulled the bottom of his blood soaked shirt down.  I took hold of his hands, and carefully helped him to his feet.

 

“Thank you.  I can get home.”  He tried to walk forward, but almost collapsed against the brick wall in pain.  I caught him, letting him lean on my right shoulder and bracing him with my left hand.  He’s heavy, but not an inch of that weight is fat.  His chest is broad and muscular like the men in the army I saw at my high school when they were recruiting for the Marine Corps.

 

“You’re injured and can barely stand.  I can’t just let you go back out on the streets and get killed.”  I tell him.  I can put him on the sofa in the apartment, and move him to my bedroom if Dad comes home early.  “I have an apartment on the second floor.  You can stay on the sofa for the night.”

 

**Jason POV**

 

“By the way, where’s your helmet?”  Sorry, I had to blow it up again to prevent Damian, my crazy, psychotic former assassin brother, from trying to kill me for the eightieth time.  Yeah.  She’ll totally understand that.

 

“Lost it in the fight.  I pulled it off, and got shot.”  I told her.  She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“Right....” She dragged it out.  Yeah, totally didn’t buy it.  “Okay. You’re coming with me, so I can keep an eye on you.  You might need stitches.”  Okay, so she won’t take no for an answer.  Grabbing my arm, she walked me through the doors, up the stairs, and through her front door into a small two bedroom apartment with a kitchen and living area.  The sofa was across from the television.  It looked comfy.

 

While I sat down, she got some Motrin from a cabinet in the kitchen, and returned to my side.  For the first time tonight, I notice how beautiful she is.  Fluorescent kitchen light reflects off of her golden blonde hair and light olive skin.  Long eyelashes and high cheekbones frame blue-grey eyes that seem to analyze everything.  The girl is about a foot shorter than me.  I’m a tall guy at about six foot three, but most girls my age are closer to the five foot eight mark.  She’s about five foot five.

 

To tell the truth, I’m kind of glad my communicator wasn’t working tonight.  Dad’s in Europe, Dick is in Bludhaven, Tim’s home working on a case, and Damian, well, he’s Damian.  Mom is the only one out tonight and she would lecture me for letting myself get shot.  And then she would tell Bruce.  Damian would never let me live it down if .

 

“Can you take your shirt off?”  Huh?  “I’ll wash the blood out of it.  You can use one of my dad’s shirts in the meantime.  They might be a little tight though.”  Oh.  Alright then.

 

“Yeah.”  When I started to pull it up over my head, I must have stretched my stomach too much, because the two bullet wounds sent a wave of pain rocketing through my abdomen.  To my credit I held back a groan.  She must have noticed because she stepped in and pulled it the rest of the way off and folded it over her shoulder.  Okay then.  Nice girl.  I need to stop calling her the girl.  “What’s your name?”  She tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips.  Her soft, pink lips.  I blinked, trying to clear my mind and awaited her question.

 

“Why do you need to know?”  Suspicious.  She kinda remind me of Timmy with her blue eyes and suspicious attitude.  Yep, I just met a pretty girl who is a lot like my little brother.

 

“So I don’t have to call you ‘girl’ anymore in my head.”  She was also irritating, in that cute, exasperating way.

 

“Skylar.  Yours is?”  Is she kidding?

 

“Red Hood.  But you can call me Hood.”  She frowned.  Then Sky tilted her head to the side and fixed me with that annoyed stare I have only ever seen come from Dick or my father.

 

“I meant your real name, not your hero slash crime lord name.”  

 

“In case you haven’t noticed, I work with the Bats.  I am not involved in the same shit anymore.  I don’t kill either.  My dad made sure of that.”

 

“You’re Batman’s kid?  You mean Nightwing and Red Robin and Robin are your brothers?”  

 

“Yes they are.  Now can you go wash my shirt, Skylar?  It’s kinda weird sitting here shirtless.”  She looked down, and noticed that she was still holding my shirt.  I smirked when she blushed.

 

“Right.  Be back in a sec.”  Sky walked out the door and down the hall to where I assume there is a washing machine.  I noticed that she wasn’t wearing pajamas.  Does she seriously sleep in jeans and a black tank?  Odd.  But a good look for her.

 

**Skylar POV**

 

Okay.  So I was on my way downstairs at 3:30 am with Red Hood’s shirt.  Weird situation?  Definitely!  I threw the shirt in the washer, and headed back upstairs, where I saw Hood passed out on the couch.  Why wouldn’t he tell me his name?

  
He seems familiar.  Like I have seen him on television before without his mask or his helmet.  He looked exhausted, like he hasn’t slept in days.  I smiled to myself and walked into my room.  I fell asleep almost immediately.  I felt safe with him in the next room.  Strange.


	2. DaddyBats Entering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I got a few kudos on the last chapter, so I figured I would post the next one and see what happens. Enjoy!

The next morning, when I finally rolled out of bed, Dad still wasn’t home, and Hood was asleep. I walked into the kitchen and pulled out some cereal and milk, and grabbed two bowls in case Sleepy over there woke up. Sure enough, when I started eating, the guy sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty.” He looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“So now I’m Aurora?” He lifted the bottom of the mask up and bowed his head to hide his identity. When he replaced the mask, I raise an eyebrow at him.

“What?” He asked.

“Impressive. Not only do you recognize Disney princesses, walk around in a biker jacket and customized helmet with no less that ten knives that I found in your shirt, but you also have trust issues. Why?” He looked down for a moment.

“Because I learned from experience: anyone can betray you if you give them the chance, even your mother.” His mother?

“No mother would betray their child. I can’t believe that.” He tensed up and looked out the window. I heard him sigh heavily and saw him pinch the bridge of his nose with his right hand. Did I say something wrong?

“My birth mother only cared about money. She stood and smoked while I was beaten to death. The only mother who cared about me overdosed on drugs, and my father was abusive and always drunk.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked up, surprised, walked into the kitchen and sat down in the chair across from me. 

“You didn’t realize. So far, I don’t see any reason to not trust you, but I’m still not telling you my name.”

“Why not?” I would never rat him out to the cops. Ever. He rose from his chair and was standing in front of me in two steps. He leaned down, bracing his arms against the chair, and said something I never would expect to hear from a man like him.

“I have to protect my family. We all depend on each other to keep our identities secret. I will not betray that trust again.” He smelled of gun oil and cologne: an oddly alluring smell. To add to that, he’s still shirtless. At my height, I end up staring right at a pair of enormous biceps and a pair of pretty pecs.

“I understand that. What did you mean by again?” I questioned softly. Oops, bad idea. His pained expression turned to annoyance.

“Can we change the subject?” He pulled back and went to sit on the couch. I nodded and started forward to sit with him. Oh, darn. His shirt! I’d forgotten to grab it from the wash!

“I’m going to get your shirt! Be right back.” He nodded, grinning that annoying half-smile.

**Jason POV**

I tilted my head back and then turned the TV to the news channel.

“And now to the latest news on the crime lord turned hero: the Red Hood. Several men found to be working with Black Mask were apprehended last night, claiming to have killed the Red Hood. ‘He’s as good as dead. I got him twice in the stomach. He’ll be dead within the day,’ said Marty Simmons, one of the men. Simmons was found with a gun, which was later discovered to have an empty magazine. Residents reported hearing two gunshots at about two am this morning, but did not investigate. Batman, Batgirl, Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin have all been seen at the scene of the crime. If anyone has information on Hoods whereabouts, they are asked to bring the information to Commissioner James Gordon.” With a click of the remote, the TV switched off. 

Dad was looking for me? I thought he was in Europe. The door creaked open and I looked up to see Skylar walk in with my shirt folded over her arm. The scene looked so right: me on the couch, her walking in with my laundry....No. I’m not good for someone like her, not safe. I risk my life every night and make tons of enemies. She needs someone who will come back to her, who will live. I stand, and take my shirt and start pulling it carefully on over my bandaged wounds. The second I tuck it in, we hear a knock on the door. Skylar looks at me and jerks her head toward her bedroom. When I close the door, she opens the front door. I press my ear to the wooden door, holding my guns in my hands.

“Where’s Red Hood?” It’s my father, who is supposed to be in Russia dealing with Ra’s al Ghul.

“I’ll get hi-” She pauses as I open the door.

“I’m here. Skylar, meet Batman.” Skylar is staring at me. “Where’s Golden Boy, Replacement, and the Demon?” Batman scowls at my nickname for Damian.

“At the cave. Robin sprained his ankle last night while you were out. Are you alright?”

“A little sore, but I’ll be fine in a day or two.” Skylar’s mouth falls open. Damn she’s pretty.

“More like a week or two. Or do you forget not even being able to stand up straight?” She asks me.

“I am perfectly able to stand up straight without help. You were the one who insisted on not letting me go up the stairs myself.”

“Because you nearly collapsed when I stopped supporting you! You wouldn’t have made it the first few steps and you know it!” She retorts. True, but I’m not about to admit that. And it’s not because I’m macho, it’s because DaddyBats overreacts when any of us get so much as a cut. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my father smirking. She stalks over and looks up at me with her small hands on her slim hips. Her lips are pursed and her eyes are staring defiantly up at me.

“I would have. You wouldn’t let me try!” True. She didn’t even let me take a single step without her.

“I had just dug two bullets out of your abdomen. I was NOT about to let you fall and pass out on me.” She shot back, jabbing her finger into my chest. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m much smaller than you.”

“I did notice that. And I wouldn’t have collapsed. I would’ve eventually made it back home.”

“Mhm sure. You had been shot twice. You were barely able to move on your own, let alone get through the city to wherever you bat people group up.”

“Thank you, but we should leave.” Dad interrupted. Skylar nodded. As we left, I glanced back and gave her my trademark half smile. She smiled back, and watched us leave.

As we drove home, the Ibuprofen Skylar had given me began to wear off. But I wasn’t paying attention to the pain, I was thinking about Skylar. The way she studied everything. The way she smiled. How she blushed when she forgot my shirt. 

“Jason? Where were you?” Dick’s voice startled me, and I realized we were in the Batcave. I hopped out of the car and walked to where Dick stood with Dad. 

“I got help. And aren’t you supposed to be in Bludhaven?”

“I came home to help you with the Black Mask situation, but you’d already left. I stayed here to keep an eye on Little D and Timmy.” Satisfied, I turned to Dad.

“When did you get back from Russia?” 

“I arrived an hour ago. Batman wasn’t me. That was Dick. He called me and told me what happened. I had the pilot fly me back here as soon as the jet was ready. It took me 15 minutes to find you. Now. Who was she and why did she want to help you?” So much for keeping Skylar out of this whole thing.

“Skylar Harris. I saw her last name on some mail.” I said. “I’ve no idea why she helped me, but she did. I’d like to see her again when I’m healed.” Dad pulled his cowl back, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his blue eyes slightly.

“Why would you want to draw any attention to her?” Dad asked. Black Mask has been trying to kill me since I started messing with him and let's not forget Joker. Both of them would do anything or use anyone to take me out.

“I want to keep an eye on Skylar. There’s a chance Black Mask might go after her. I want her protected.” I said. He nodded, and left to track her down on his computer, leaving Dick grinning stupidly at me.

“Jaybird’s got a-”

“Finish that sentence or lose your trachea.” I said, brushing past him and walking to the medbay where Alfred and Leslie were waiting. 

“Lay down, Jason. I’m going to see if you need anything else done to your stomach,” said Leslie. 

“Skylar cleaned and bandaged them this morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please critique me as much as you like as far as my writing. I love it when people tell me where I need improvement!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Subscribe and comment!


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